Private Justice
by arianacabello
Summary: Another day, another dollar, another murder. Beck Oliver is a detective for the LAPD. But what happens when crime starts hitting too close to home? Beck's fiancée is murdered, and keeping his feelings for Tori Vega at bay seems more difficult than trying to find the culprit. Can he and Tori catch Trina's murderer before he strikes again? Slightly AU, Bori - now complete.
1. Discovery

Another day, another dollar, another murder.

Detective Beck Oliver stepped out of the police station on 10th avenue and headed for his unmarked squad car, his partner André Harris following close behind. Sometimes, he hated his job as a PI—how would you feel if you had to tell someone that their spouse, friend or business associate had been murdered in cold blood %50 of the time? Granted, he didn't deal with murder _every_ day, but most of the time that was the case. Then again, he supposed he'd never tire of bringing evildoers to justice for as long as he lived.

Today, though, he finally caught a break. A little R&R never hurt anyone, and after he and André grabbed a bite to eat, that was where he was headed—to the airport to catch his flight to New York City.

"I bet you're excited for your little vacation, huh?" André asked, opening the passenger's side door.

"You'd better believe it," Beck replied, putting the key into the ignition. The car roared to life and he slowly backed out of his parking space and took off down the street. "You should do the same thing, man. You and Jade can go have a nice, quiet vacation somewhere."

André immediately shook his head. "You of all people should know that she hates going on vacations half the time. I mean you guys dated for I don't know how long."

Beck blew out a sigh as he pulled to a stoplight. "Yeah, well, my mistake. But she's your girlfriend now, and you know how to talk her into doing stuff. Physically and sexually."

André laughed out loud. "Don't let her hear you say that, man."

Beck chuckled as he turned down Main St. A bit of silence passed before André spoke again. "Okay so, when are you picking Trina up and going to the airport?"

Beck glanced over at him, pulling into the parking lot of Starbucks. "She isn't coming with me. You know Trina, if we're going on vacation _she's_ the one who picks where we go."

André frowned. "Really? I thought you said last week she was going with you."

Beck shook his head, reaching his hand to turn down the radio. "We had a fight this morning. She said if I really loved her I wouldn't try and make her do something she doesn't want to."

André chuckled under his breath. "Tell me again why you two are getting married next month?"

Beck fell silent. Honestly, he'd been wondering that himself lately. It was funny because all those months ago, Trina had proposed to him, not the other way around. He decided that, at the time, he didn't want to be a bachelor the rest of his life. His breakup with Jade had been messy, and Trina had swooped in quicker than a hawk closing in on its prey.

But he didn't really love her. He was sure of that. He wasn't marrying her for money, because her career as an amateur artist (yes, she'd finally found _something_ she was good at) earned her decent pay, and he got a good paycheck himself.

One thing he knew for certain, though—being with Trina only made his feelings for her baby sister grow stronger.

He and Tori had been inseparable ever since high school. He remembered the events of the Platinum Music Awards like it was yesterday. Still, despite that they remained best friends. Tori was everything he wanted, no scratch that—_needed_ in a girl—so why did they keep beating around the bush about how they felt? Sure, Tori's career as a small-time actress kept her busy, but what did that matter?

It certainly didn't make him love her any less.

"I don't know, man." Beck finally replied, leaning his head back on the headrest. He pulled out his wallet and pulled out a $20. "Get me one of those caramel mochas, will you? And maybe a muffin."

Andre took the bill and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, then opened the door. Before he got out, he said, "You know I'm not one to get all in your business, man, but I will say this: marriage is serious business, so don't take it lightly."

Beck leaned over a little. "You're one to talk about marriage, you haven't even proposed to Jade yet."

Andre patted his pants pocket. "That's where you're wrong, man. I'm planning on it today."

Beck waved him away and he closed the door, walking towards the entrance to the coffee shop.

* * *

_"Hi, it's Trina Vega! I can't come to the phone right now because I'm either spending time with my gorgeous fiancé, or I'm painting another masterpiece! Leave a message!"_

The brunette put the key into the ignition and turned it. "Hey Treen, please pick up the phone. I'm sorry about what happened earlier."

Tori hung up and snapped her phone shut, tossing it on the empty seat beside her. She'd been trying to call Trina for almost an hour now, not only to say that the meeting she was supposed to be in had gotten canceled, but also to apologize.

That morning, Trina had called her asking for her help with some last minute wedding decorations. Tori had declined, but her older sister blew things way out of proportion and claimed Tori didn't want her to get married.

Which, in a way, was true.

The horrified look on Tori's face when her parents said they were getting a divorce paled in comparison to the look when Beck and Trina's wedding invitation came in the mail nearly four months ago. It simply reassured Tori even more that she would never find Mr. Right. She remembered the angry conversation she and Beck had later that same day:

_"Beck, when exactly did you plan on telling me you're gonna marry my sister?!"_

_Pause. "You found out, huh?"_

_"What in God's name is wrong with you? I thought you hated her!"_

_"Tor, calm down. I don't hate her...she's not all that bad—"_

_Tori slammed her hand down on the table. "Shut up, Beck. I can see right through this, okay? What's the real reason you're doing this?"_

_Beck stayed silent for several seconds. "Between the two Vega siblings, she's the only one who hasn't been afraid to tell me how she feels about me."_

Tori's hands gripped the wheel tight as she made her way to her sister's house, and she breathed out a sigh. Even though they'd forgiven each other after that, she knew Beck was right. Tori _knew_ how she felt about him. Those feelings from high school had buried themselves deep and refused to leave. So what was the problem? Why couldn't she just tell him?

The answers were still unknown to her, and as she pulled in front of Trina's house she tried to forget about it all. Hopefully Trina wouldn't still be brooding.

Tori grabbed her phone and her keys, slipped them into her pocket. She grabbed her black gloves and slipped them on, seeing as it was yet another cold day in October and then zipped up her jacket as she got out of the car.

The wind whipped through her hair, sending a chill down her spine and she pulled her beige coat tighter around herself. Dark grey clouds hung over her, matching her mood all while threatening rain. Something seemed...different. Out of place.

Tori's heels clicked against the sidewalk and the red wooden porch as she reached the door. She pushed the doorbell with her index finger and stepped back, waiting.

She felt some unseen presence watching her and her brown eyes scanned the property left to right, but she saw nothing. An uneasy feeling still pricked her, however, and she balled her fist and pounded it against the door, wishing her sister would answer it already.

The door slowly creaked open.

Fear began to gnaw on Tori's insides. Trina never left her door unlocked due to the somewhat high crime rate in the neighborhood. So what was going on? Had Trina been absentminded?

Or had something happened to her?

Tori pushed the door open fully and stepped inside. Her mouth dropped open as she saw that the living room had been ransacked. Papers were strewn about, broken prices of glass littered the floor. Even the awful-looking self portrait of Trina had been torn from the wall.

"Treen? Trina, where are you?" Tori yelled, walking forward. Glass crunched under her as she looked in all the rooms on the main level. Heart thumping, she listened for any signs of an intruder.

Then, she heard it—music. Katy Perry's "Roar" played faintly from upstairs. Tori knew that was Trina's ringtone...but she wasn't answering the phone.

Tori bolted, taking the stairs two steps at a time. The phone was still ringing, and it came from the bedroom. She flung the door open and searched for any sign of life.

Nothing...but the bedroom had also been ransacked like the living room. Also it was dark, because the lace curtains were closed. Another thing that Trina never would have done.

What was this person looking for?

Quickly, she strode over to the desk and looked to see who was calling. When she saw it was Beck, her heart lurched. Thank God he was an officer of the law. He could help.

"Beck!" She blurted out, nearly dropping the phone because of her shaking hands. "Beck, you've gotta help! Something's happened to Trina!"

"Tori?" Beck sounded confused, but concern laced his voice. "Tor, calm down, where are you?"

"I'm at her house, someone tore up the place and I don't know where she is-" Tori paused, hearing another sound—was that water running?

"Beck, hold on I'm gonna check something!" She set the phone down and sprinted out the room, down the hall for the bathroom. Bath water was running, and the door was slightly ajar.

Tori flung the door open and water greeted her shoes. The tub was overflowing, spilling water onto the floor. Water that had a reddish tint to it.

Tori forgot how to breathe. Slowly, she stepped forward, trying not to slip and fall as she inched towards the large bathtub.

Trina Vega's body floated on top of the water, a bullet hole clean through her forehead.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I'm here with a new story! I'm already working on the second chapter. This is easier for me to do since I'm working on my own novel. For every chapter I write of that, I write on of this! :)**

**This is obviously Bori, but it'll have some Jandre too. I hope you guys enjoyed it.**

**Remember: if you read it, review it. It's the least you could do, y'know?**

**-AJ-**


	2. The Peliminary Search

Within an hour or so, Trina's house had become a crime scene. Police tape prevented anyone that had no business being there off the property. Three or four squad cars were parked outside, the uniforms inspecting things outside while Beck and André handled things inside. A few neighbors had come out of their houses, some with mugs in their hands, wondering what was going on. One of the rookie cops had been assigned the duty of questioning them, seeing what they knew, if anything.

Beck watched as the forensics team sifted throughout the living room for fingerprints, hair follicles, anything that could put them one step closer to catching the monster that did this.

Beck wasn't sure what emotions he should've been feeling. A few of his superiors and those under him offered their condolences—yes, it was tragic what had happened, but wasn't Tori getting the worst part of the deal?

"We can't go into the bathroom yet because there's too much water, but they got some folks cleaning it up now." André said as he emerged from the kitchen. "Don't you think it's weird that only two rooms got turned upside down?"

Beck nodded, kneeling as he carefully examined one of the pieces of glass on the carpeted floor. "They were searching for something…but what? Trina didn't have any valuables."

"That you know of." André replied, studying the dismantled picture frame at his feet. "My question is why would they fill up the bathtub, shoot her, then put her in? Why didn't they just drown her or something? It would've been easier."

"You sound like you're encouraging them."

André shrugged. "Just trying to examine all the possibilities."

"Hey, come look at this," Beck beckoned André to come look at what he was seeing. A fine, white powder was on one section of the carpet, and beside it was a large spot of blood. A few fibers of the carpet were beginning to crust, meaning that the blood was drying up.

"Is it Trina's?" André asked.

"No, it couldn't be. They wouldn't have shot her in here and then carried her up the stairs. Blood would've been everywhere and I've only found some in this spot so far…" Beck looked up as Jack Dawson, one of the forensic scientists, jogged down the stairs with two sealed bags in his hands. "Hey Jack, c'mere a second."

The muscular blond, who looked like he was a contestant on _The Bachelorette_, walked over to both of them. "What's up, Oliver? I was just about to take this stuff down to the lab."

"Can you or someone on your team run this blood through a DNA test? I wanna see who's it is and if we can ID them."

Jack nodded. "Sure thing."

Beck and André stepped back and let Jack do his work. While that was going on chief of police Dave Branning peeked his head in through the door. "Oliver, Harris. We need you out here."

Beck and André stepped around Jack and went outside. Some of the uniforms had returned to their squad cars; others were radioing things in on their walkie-talkies.

"Me and Andrews just finished questioning the neighbors up and down the block. Someone saw a black Sedan pull up in front of the house at about 9:30 this morning. Only one person got out. About fifteen minutes later, _two_ people exited the house and got back into the car. One of them was limping."

André held up a hand. "So lemme get this straight: whoever killed Trina had someone working on the inside?"

Branning nodded. "That's the way it's looking. What did you guys find inside?"

Beck reported their progress so far, including the blood and the white powder.

"I'm guessing that the guy who was limping got shot or injured some other way, which means the girl fought back." Branning surmised, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "And I bet that powder you found is coke."

Beck frowned. "Trina never did drugs."

"Not saying she did, not saying she didn't. But when we're dealing with homicide, Oliver, things that you never thought would happen get revealed."

Branning then stepped away, barking orders to one the cops that were just milling around, doing nothing. Beck saw that André had stepped away to make a phone call, probably to Jade to let her know that he would be home extremely late, if at all.

Who would want to kill Trina? And why? None of this made sense, and he had to get to the bottom of things—fast.

* * *

Tori couldn't think straight. Every ounce of pain that went into a headache was ripping apart her mind. Her sister was dead. Murdered. The image of Trina's corpse was etched into her brain. Ever since the discovery, the chief of police had ordered her not to leave the area, in case they wanted to ask her some more questions. The twenty-two year old did as ordered and stayed in her car with the heat on. She didn't know how long she sat there, sobbing her heart out, cradling her head in her hands.

Why did bad things happen to good people?

Eyes red, nose raw, she called her mother and broke the news to she and Gary, her stepfather. They weakly said the police had already told them what details were known—they also told her to come by the house so they could grieve together.

_"I can't," _She'd told them. _"They still need me for questioning. I'll come as soon as I can. I love you guys."_

She rubbed her temples wearily, trying to think of who'd want to do harm to her sister. She had her share of enemies, but the disagreements were over meaningless things—would someone go as far as to put a bullet through Trina's forehead?

A knock at the window lifted Tori out of the fog. Beck stood there, hands in his pockets, worry and concern on his features. His eyes held sympathy, grief, and another emotion Tori knew but didn't want to acknowledge.

Instead of rolling down the window, she opened the car door and went around the front, and more tears burned her eyes as she reached him and fell into his arms.

"I'm so, so sorry," He whispered into her ear, holding her tightly. Her slender fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed into his chest. He cradled her head, his chin resting on her hair. "I can't even imagine what you're going through right now."

Weary, she pulled away and looked at him, sniffling. "Have they found any concrete evidence? A weapon or something like that?"

"We're working on a few leads now, but nothing definite yet." He rubbed her arms gently. "Let me take you home, Tor. You've had enough for one day."

She shook her head. "I'm gonna stay as long as I need to."

"That's just it, you don't need to. We're fine here, I swear. Go home with your parents, they need you."

She nodded, hesitantly, and stepped away from him. "Thank you." She whispered.

He nodded. "You know I'd do anything for you, Tor."

Tori wiped her eyes and stepped forward once more, embracing him tightly. "Promise you won't leave me."

He stroked her hair gently. "You have my word."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Thanks for the reviews, faves and follows! Keep them coming. And thanks to those silent readers who didn't want to leave a comment, I appreciate y'all too! :) I'm gonna try and upload a chapter a day. Not trying to rush things, but then again I don't want this story to be too long because I am in college, after all. I know you guys will be patient though, right? Right.**

**If you read it, review it.**

**-AJ**


	3. First Suspect

Beck felt fatigue spreading through very inch of him. He was only working on three hours of sleep and his coffee break had been, unfortunately, interrupted by Trina's death. Once this case was over, he would be glad to take that vacation. Maybe even Tori could join him...

"Hey, Oliver!"

Beck took his feet off his desk and sat up straight as he saw Branning walking towards him, a Manila file folder in hand. He looked angry but determined, as if on a mission.

"We didn't get an ID on that bloodstain yet, but the powder came back positive as cocaine." He slapped the folder down in front of Beck. "The autopsy report is in there."

Beck nodded his thanks, opening the folder. "Have we determined what type of gun she was shot with?"

"The bullet is from a 9x19mm Grandpower K100, one of the most common semi-automatic pistols these days. Ballistics report shows that from the way the bullet entered her head she was shot point-blank range. Mostly likely within the bathroom doorway."

Beck's stomach twisted at that news. "What's this about strangulation marks?"

Branning nodded and rubbed his face, a nervous tick he'd had ever since Beck met him. "You need to go down to the coroner's office and see for yourself. But we found marks on her neck, almost like from a rope, and several lacerations on her face."

Beck winced and leaned back in his chair, processing all the info in his head. What did this mean? Was this the work of a methodical maniac? Or just a senseless shooting?

"I don't know what to make of all this, Dave. There are a lot of pieces that don't fit. For instance, whose blood is on the carpet? And what's with the coke on the floor?"

"That's still a mystery to me too, Beck. Do you think your fiancé did drugs? Or maybe she was in contact with someone that did?"

Again, Beck shook his head. "Trina was a little kooky, but drugs would've been going too far. I could talk to Tori, though." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "God, none of this makes sense…"

"Beck, we got something," André emerged from the back room and came behind Beck, making sure to acknowledge the chief before revealing his information. "We just got an ID on the guy who's blood was on the carpet. Pat ran him through the database and he's got a slew of arrests for drug possession. Name's Chad Banks. He lives in a rural area of Los Angeles."

Beck stood up. "You think he's our guy?"

"I'm guessing he was either the guy who shot Trina or the accomplice. We'll figure that out once we get him, but we gotta hurry."

Beck grabbed his keys, phone, and gun off his desk. "We'll see you later, Branning."

* * *

The sun was starting to set by the time Beck and André left the station to seek out Banks. En route Beck called Tori, to make sure she was okay because he hadn't talked to her in a few days—she told him that they were starting on Trina's funeral preparations and she couldn't talk then, but maybe he could come by if he found the time later.

Beck had dealt with loss before; his mother died when he was seven, from breast cancer. It wasn't the same as discovering a loved one's corpse, but he could sympathize with her to a certain extent.

This time around, Beck let André drive so he could sort out the details and piece together what they had so far. "Okay, let's see. Banks and his buddy break into Trina's house, looking for something. They ransack the place, Trina catches them in the act, they freak out and shoot her—"

"Wait, that doesn't add up. First of all, if Banks is the one that's got a wound, how'd he get it? Trina had to have fought back, and we know some type of altercation happened because of the marks on her face and neck."

Beck nodded, realizing he was right. "Alright, so Trina fought back, and from what Branning told me it looks like they shot her in the bathroom. Our guy gets an open wound and bleeds on the carpet, spills some coke…but he spill it before or after they shot her? And why was the coke out, able to be spilled?"

André shook his head. "Maybe Branning was right. Maybe we didn't know Trina as well as we thought we did."

Beck ran a hand over his face, feeling a headache coming on. So many thoughts were swirling in his head; conclusions that he didn't want to face were being drawn in his brain. Now was one of those times were he wished he hadn't passed the tests at the police academy.

As they pulled up to a stoplight, André glanced over at his best friend. "Man, you alright?"

Beck raked a hand through his hair, noticing the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror for the first time. It made him look forty-six, not twenty-six. "I'm fine. Just tired. I haven't had a good night's sleep in I don't know how long."

"You don't look 'fine'. It's been a whirlwind of a week, how are you taking it?"

He shrugged. "I mean, I guess I'm taking it better than most, man. It's really upsetting, though; I mean I haven't broken down, but her death really shocked me so I'm grieving in my own way. Sure she was annoying at times but Trina was a really nice girl. Seeing her like that, with a bullet in her head…" He trailed off, getting a faraway look in his eyes. "It makes me want to catch this guy even more."

"Same here. But you don't have to put on a macho act. She was your fiancée, after all."

"I'm aware of that. And, well…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I did cry a little last night. Every thing about this whole case frustrates me; it just sends me into overdrive. I shouldn't even be working on it, if you ask me. She shouldn't be dead."

"That's why we're going to catch this freak before he kills again."

"Agreed."

They turned into a rural neighborhood and Beck started reading the addresses off the front of the houses, looking for Banks's place. "1312, 1313…hey, this is it. 1314 Millbrook Drive."

André grimaced. "Looks like a dump to me."

What wood that was left on the porch was rotting, and it smelled of mold and mildew. The house itself had flimsy boards over the windows, a rusty piece of the gutter hanging off. "Hey, dump or not, this is Banks's last known address." He saw the old Ford Explorer parked in the driveway and made a mental note to have someone else search it later. "Well, somebody's here, unless they make a habit out of leaving cars running in this neighborhood."

André turned off the car and slowly pulled out his gun from the holster on his belt. "If there's a shootout, the Kevlar will take it. Don't do anything wild, man. We aren't sure what we're dealing with here."

Beck patted his chest with one hand, took out his handgun with the other. "I don't think we'll be needing our vests, but we might as well. Besides, he's bound to be snorting something once we get inside."

Slowly, Beck opened the car door and eased out. "Let's go."

The partners exited the vehicle and cautiously approached the house, André looking up and down the block for any signs of life while Beck tried to peer inside. Beck cocked his gun, held it up as he stepped on the rotting porch. It wobbled, and he held up his hand, signaling André to wait.

"This thing will collapse if we're both on it, lemme go in first and scope out the place. I'll call you if I need you. We may need some backup, too, I don't know yet. Just keep an eye out."

André patted Beck's shoulder. "Be careful."

Beck nodded and pressed onward. Once he reached the door, he put his gun on his side with one hand, rang the doorbell with the other.

"Open up, police!"

Silence reigned for only a minute, but it felt like a year. Beck's hands were shaking slightly, but he'd faced graver things than this in his career. What would be waiting behind the door?

Slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a heavyset Caucasian man that was most likely in his mid thirties, but his skin had a yellowish tint to it, and it made him look much older. Tattoos of all kinds went up and down both arms, and he had stains on his sleeveless black shirt. His eyes were bloodshot, like he had recently snorted something or hadn't gotten enough sleep, maybe both.

"Whaddya want?" He growled. "I didn't do nothing."

Beck lowered his gun slightly, but kept his guard up. He looked past the man and peered into the house, which looked much worse than the outside. "Who said you did anything? I'm just looking for Chad Banks. Is he here?"

The man rubbed his nose. "I'm his roommate, Mike. And if you don't have a warrant, then—"

"Oh, I have a warrant, buddy. Out of the way if you please." Beck pushed past the overweight man and stepped into the house. It was small, with not that many rooms, but somehow it still managed to be cluttered. Week old dishes with food crusted on them sat in a pile by the sink, flies buzzing around them. Clothes were everywhere, and it reeked of body odor, cigarette smoke, and drugs. Beck looked back towards the front entrance, motioning for Andre to come inside.

"Now, if you don't mind answering my question?" Beck turned back to the man as André began searching one of the rooms.

The guy shifted uncomfortably, wiping his hand on his shirt. "He's in there." He gestured towards a door that was slightly ajar. André came out of the room and walked up to Beck, a sleek black suitcase in his hand. "A bunch of guns in here, one of them is the one the same kind of gun that killed her."

"Any of those registered?" Beck asked.

Mike held up his hands. "I don't know, man. All that junk belongs to Chad."

Beck resisted rolling his eyes. Instead, with André close behind, they slowly walked towards the room where Mike had directed them. Beck kicked the door open and found exactly who he was looking for. Chad Banks was a thin and scrawny guy with stringy blond hair and green eyes—well, at least Beck thought they were green. The man's eyes were barely open as he lay on the floor, a cigarette in his hand and an injection needle in his arm.

"This is our guy, alright," André muttered from behind him.

Beck holstered his gun and lifted Chad from the floor, much to his chagrin. He carefully removed the needle from his arm and shook him. "C'mon buddy, snap out of it, come back to the real world."

Angrily, Chad tried to break free but Beck just gripped him tighter. "Hey, let go of me, man!"

"Do you own any handguns?"

Chad grimaced even more. "Sure, I own a few. What's it to you?"

"What about a Grandpower K100? Own one of those?" André demanded.

Chad grumbled a response and Beck shook him again. "Answer the question before I bash your skull in."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't! I don't keep tabs on the weapons I own. And why are you asking all these questions, man? There ain't nothing against the law about being in my own house."

"No, but there is a law against shooting innocent women in the head with an unregistered gun." Beck whipped out his cuffs and shoved Banks against the wall. "Chad Banks, you're under arrest for illegal drug possession, assault and battery, and the murder of Trina Vega."

Chad grunted as he was cuffed, but his eyes were wide. "Murder? I didn't murder _nobody!_ You got me pegged all wrong, man. Sure I got some drugs but I wouldn't kill nobody!"

"Whine all you want in jail, bud." Beck shoved him out of the room, told André to grab Mike so they could question him, and then went to put Chad in the squad car.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Not much of anything going on Bori wise in this chapter, but I hope you liked it. I find it funny that this story has over 300 views and only a handful of reviews...oh well. I guess I should be grateful for ****_something_****.**

**So what do you guys think? Do you think Chad is the accomplice, or did he kill Trina? Do you think he's just a red herring? Do you think there will be more victims? Lemme know, I appreciate all the feedback I can get! :) **

**Also I made sure this chapter was over 2k words because I have a busy work load. I have plans for the fourth chap already, and I've already started on it. **

**-AJ**


	4. Questions, Answers, Murder

Beck paced back and forth in the interrogation room, hands behind his back. He blew out a frustrated sigh and pushed his hair back, daring to glance at the man who was making him sick, and very, very angry. André stood by quietly, taking notes but not saying much unless Beck needed him.

"Banks, we've been in this room for over two hours and you still expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this case? Absolutely nothing?"

Chad leaned his head back, his face sweaty and his lip bloodied from when Beck had hit him out of frustration. He chuckled softly, his teeth yellow. "Amazing what the LAPD has boiled down to. Arresting innocent folks for—"

"But you're not innocent!" Beck growled, getting in close to his face. "Now either you killed Trina or you know a hell of a lot about what happened. Which is it?"

"Alright, alright back off!" Chad yelled, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "I swear to God man, I only did it for the money. He offered me fifty grand—" Chad paused, his eyes growing serious, almost pleading. "I _needed_ that money, man. But he said nobody would get hurt!"

Beck held up a hand. "Who are you talking about? Who hired you?"

Chad shook his head. "Nobody hired me, man. I didn't kill that lady. He did. I was just supposed to watch and make sure nobody was around. That's all I did, I swear. I was by the door and I was taking a hit when I heard her screaming and crying. Then he shot her!" Chad seemed to get anxious with every other word he spoke. "He ran downstairs and—"

André stepped forward then. "Why did he want to kill Trina in the first place? Why did he ransack the place? Explain that."

"She owed him money, and I don't know what for. I tried asking him but he never really said, he kept telling me to be quiet." He suddenly grabbed Beck's shirtsleeve. "I'm not saying anymore until I get a lawyer or something. He'll find out and he'll kill me, I swear."

Beck jerked his sleeve away. "I'm not giving you anything until you finish talking."

"Okay, alright…" He ran a hand over his face and breathed out a sigh. "He ran downstairs and he kept saying, 'she shot me!' over and over. I guess they had a fight, and...well you probably can guess the rest."

Beck looked at André, and then back at Chad, pondering everything in his head. If Chad was being truthful, who had Trina been in debt to? Wouldn't she have told him something as serious as that?

"I told you everything I know." Chad said finally after some silence, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't care if I go to jail for illegal drugs or guns or whatever. Just don't pin this murder on me."

Beck stared at Chad for a long while. For years, he'd been able to tell if a suspect was lying—their mannerisms, the direction in which their eyes went, if they tugged or constantly touched their hair—Chad had done none of that. He was just a druggie, a pawn in this sick and cruel game.

But if they were going to get any closer to Trina's killer, they had to keep him here, and that's what he planned to do.

* * *

Caterina Shapiro hummed a cheery tune, carefully putting the hot pan of red velvet cupcakes on the marble countertop. She closed the oven door and wiped her hands on her apron, smiling, satisfied at the job well done. After these cooled, she'd be able to frost them, put them into boxes with Robbie's help, and then deliver them to the church bake sale.

Baking desserts hadn't been one of Cat's biggest goals in life, even though she did enjoy it every once in a while. But her singing career had, unfortunately, ended abruptly after college when she had to undergo throat surgery. Things turned out well, but her voice was never really the same and so she, along with her then boyfriend's assistance, turned her second hobby a full-blown business—Cat's Cupcakes.

The success of the bakery blossomed even more after she and Robbie had gotten married. At one of the charity events where he was the featured comedian, Cat gave out free cupcakes, which were a big success. Even though her initial plans had failed, she didn't mind how things were now.

Cat stretched her limbs and strode over to the couch, needing a rest. She powered on the television and briefly wondered for a moment if she remembered to lock the doors and windows. Maybe she was being a little paranoid, but Trina's death had shaken her up and left her looking behind her shoulder one too many times.

_I'm just worrying myself too much. _

After a few minutes of watching yet another rerun of _That's A Drag, _the front door opened and she heard some type of rustling sound that she was unable to identify. Automatically assuming it was Robbie, Cat stayed on the couch with her feet up on the ottoman and waited for him to greet her.

Suddenly, the lights above her went out, as if someone had been leaned against the light switch. Cat squealed a little, wondering what exactly was going on, and goosebumps pricked her arms. Maybe Robbie had come home a little early today…

She cut off the TV and listened. "Robbie? That you?"

There was no answer, and a chill of trepidation coursed through her veins. But then her terrier came trotting into the room and leaped onto her lap. Relieved that the noise wasn't an intruder, she reached for the dog and began to pet him. She could've sworn she'd let him out, but with the baking and everything else that had been going on today, she supposed she'd forgotten about letting him back in.

She heard the rustling sound again, only closer. Her hand stilled on her dog's back, and she felt its fur rise. "Robbie?" she called again. "Robbie, this isn't funny."

"No, it's not funny." The voice was definitely not Robbie's, and she screamed and grabbed the empty bottle of root beer from off the coffee table, ready to attack.

Two shots were fired—the first shattered the bottle in her hands, glass scattering all over the floor. A scream rose in Cat's throat but couldn't escape as the second bullet hit her in the chest and propelled her backwards.

Fog closed around her vision as pain spread like lava throughout her body. She clawed at the air, desperate for help, but she felt a new, more excruciating wave of pain hit her body. He had to have shot her again.

The darkness swallowed her whole as she slowly and painfully left the world way before her time.

* * *

Beck knocked on the Vega's front door and stepped back, clutching the roses in his hand. He felt tired and worn out, but he had to see Tori. He wanted to comfort her parents, as well as give them the few details he was allowed to about the developments in the case. It was the least he could do, seeing as they had no right to be kept in the dark.

The door slowly swung open and Tori stood there, clad in a purple sweatshirt that was a size too big and jean shorts. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and there were bags under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't stopped crying since the day of Trina's death—if he hadn't have been so busy, he would've offered her as much comfort as possible. She needed someone and he wanted to be in that role.

Still, she looked genuinely pleased to see him at the doorstep.

"Hey, Beck." She offered a half smile that he returned. She looked at the roses for a second, and then back up to him. "Those for me?"

Beck nodded and held them out. "I tried getting tulips, since they're your favorite, but they didn't have any. Sorry if you don't like them."

She shook her head and took the roses from his hand. "It's fine, don't beat yourself up for it." She gently took hold of his wrist and led him inside, gently shutting the door behind her.

"Have a seat, I'll put these in some water." She departed for the kitchen, and he took the time to look around. Spread out on the coffee table was a scrapbook that had pictures of Trina in it. Some when she was a baby, others during her Hollywood Arts days. Beside it were papers, some glossy, some not—Beck guessed they were trying to select a good photo for the funeral program.

A funeral that was no doubt premature.

"Mom and Gary are at the funeral home with some of the family, not sure when they'll be back." She said as she reentered the room, hands in her back pockets as she walked towards him. "I just couldn't do it today, it would have been way too much." She sighed heavily and plopped down on the couch, looking over the pictures. "I miss her so much, Beck. I know we fought all the time but she was the best big sister in the world."

Beck sat next to her and his heart broke at the pain in her eyes. Eyes that had been so vibrant and full of life not a week before. He missed seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. "I know, Tor. I'm sorry I've been so busy lately, I haven't had time—"

"Shh." She put a finger to his lips and smiled sadly. "It's fine, you don't have to apologize. You're just trying to catch this guy. I appreciate you for that."

He nodded and grasped her hand, looking at her and wondering how she managed to still be strong amidst this turmoil. How had he fallen so deeply in love with this girl?

"Have there been any developments?" She asked, breaking the moment, but not letting go of his hand.

Beck nodded and told her about the arrest. He told her a few details about Chad's confession, and how they were still holding him in a cell.

Tori leaned forward. "Do you think he's the one? It sounds like it to me…he could be lying."

"I know, it's really hard to pinpoint what exactly is going on, but he's still a suspect. And if he is telling the truth, then we have to find out who this guy is and get him before he kills again."

Tori sighed and squeezed his hand. "You're working really hard, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I haven't slept in a day or two, I think. But I'm fine. Just so long as we put this guy away and give you all some peace, I'm satisfied."

Tears pricked Tori's eyes and her lips trembled. "I'm so glad to have you in my life."

Beck's calloused fingers reached up and stroked her cheek lightly. "Likewise, Tor." He pressed his lips to hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It wasn't solely for the romantic aspect, no—he wanted to make sure she knew he would always be there for her. He had her back, no matter what.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by Beck's cell phone ringing. They separated, albeit reluctantly, Tori's face flushed as if she'd committed a crime. He smiled reassuringly at her and then stood as he answered the phone.

"Oliver."

"Beck?" It was André. His voice sounded angry but broken at the same time, as if he was shaking.

Beck noted the concern and his brows furrowed. "Hey, André, what's up?"

"I think you'd better come down here. We've got another murder."

His heart jolted. "Who is it? Do you know?"

André took in a deep breath, as if it'd cause him great pain to utter the name of the victim. "Beck, it's Cat. He killed Cat."

* * *

**Don't kill me for killing Cat! Everything happens for a reason, and that applies to this story! It's literally about to be midnight and I'm sorry I posted this so late, it's been a whirlwind!**

**Who do you think killed Trina and Cat? What do you think will happen next? Lemme know!**

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I love you!**

**-AJ**


	5. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Tori closed her eyes and tried to relax, but that was hard seeing as her sister and best friend were murdered in the same week. She glanced over at Beck, saw how his hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white as they drove towards Cat and Robbie's house. He hadn't spoken a word since André's call, and she honestly couldn't blame him. Things had stepped up a notch, and it'd been hard enough already to deal with everything. She couldn't begin to imagine how he was feeling.

But that kiss. That, too, was on her mind and she hoped that it was somewhere in his. The feel of his lips on hers was something she'd wanted, needed, for years. Had it been under different circumstances, maybe she could've enjoyed it more—but then, there was the nagging feeling that Trina was looking down from heaven with a frown.

Weren't she and Beck disrespecting her sister's memory by acting on their feelings?

"You know, you didn't have to come," Beck said suddenly, his voice low. She sensed he was trying not to say too much for fear of breaking down.

"I wanted to." She replied, looking out the window. "Has anyone gotten in touch with Robbie yet?"

Beck shook his head. "I don't know where he is, we haven't talked in quite a while and I don't even know if he got wind of Trina's death."

"Are you guys not talking because you got chosen as the head detective instead of him? He could still be bitter about that."

"I doubt he'd hold a grudge that long..." He sighed as they pulled up in front of the Shapiro's house, where the scene was akin to Trina's. "I don't see his car. He must be out somewhere."

"Well, someone needs to tell him he won't be seeing his wife when he gets home." Her voice broke on the last words, and she let the few tears fall. "I don't understand why any of this is happening. Why is this guy doing this? What does he want?"

Beck reached over and gently rubbed her arm. "We're gonna find out, I promise."

She folded her arms and sighed. "Then I'm going to help you. I can't just sit around and watch the people I love be murdered. I need to do _something_."

Beck shook his head. "Tori, no. I can't let you do that. It's way too dangerous. This guy has already killed two girls that are close to me and the rest of the gang, and—"

"Beck, like I said, I can't just sit around. I'm not saying go around shooting up random people but I can help somehow. I mean, Trina was my sister, maybe I can help answer some questions you guys have."

Beck chewed on his lip, then finally gave in. "Okay, fine. But for now, stay put, Tori. I mean it. You can go grab something to eat if you want to, this could take a while."

She nodded. "I'll grab you something, too."

"Thanks, Tor." Before exiting the car, he leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to her cheek. She smiled a little as he closed the door and started walking towards the scene. Tori's eyes followed him as he joined the rest of his colleagues, who looked even more fatigued than he did.

Tori sighed and pulled out Trina's phone from her pocket, scrolled through the contacts again. She was going to find Trina and Cat's murderer, no matter what it took.

And her first lead was the person who'd called Trina the day she died—the reason why it was so interesting that Tori had discovered her sister had dialed this number more often than she did Beck over the past month or two. Before the engagement, Tori remembered Trina talking about a "special guy" she was seeing…but stopped talking about him suddenly after she and Beck's wedding plans. Why had things changed?

_Why did he murder my sister and best friend?_

* * *

Revenge tasted sweet, so very sweet. There was no feeling that could compare to how he felt in that moment. And he absolutely loved every second of it. The best part about this, he surmised, was that no one even thought to suspect him. They were all focused on Chad Banks, that idiot that he wished he never hired. Later, of course, he'd have time to eliminate him, but that was the least of his worries. Banks was just a useless part of his grand scheme to terrorize that no-good Beck Oliver.

Every time he saw him, he grimaced. He's always held a deep hatred for him, for his good looks, the success in his career, the way girls drooled over him—it made him absolutely sick. But, he would pay.

It would take a lot more deaths from here on out, but he would _definitely_ pay.

He watched the police activity at the Shapiro's house once more, his eyes sweeping over their faces. So determined, angry and confused. Just how he wanted them. He pulled the baseball cap down a little lower so that Tori Vega, who was just across the street from him, wouldn't be able to make out his face.

He pulled out the special Pay-As-You-Go phone—the one he knew would come up as unlisted—and dialed the most recent number, Trina's phone. He put it to his ear and waited, one finger tapping his knee in a steady rhythm, waiting for the unsuspecting girl to pick up.

She answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

He smiled at the cautious but light tone she gave off. He hadn't really heard her voice since she was a student at Hollywood Arts. Back then, his heart would've done back flips because the very thought of her made his knees weak. But things had changed drastically since then, and now it his heart merely beat faster at the thought of his plans for her. "I know you want to catch your sister's killer, Tori, so listen to me very, very closely." He paused for a second, making sure she couldn't tell who he was.

"Wait, who are you? And how did you get this number?"

He grunted. "Those details aren't important right now, so let's just cut straight to the chase: I know what happened that day. Let's just say I'm a friend of Chad Banks's. If you want to catch the killer, meet me behind the Groovy Smoothie at 7:00 sharp. I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Pause. "Why would I meet _you_ anywhere? I don't even know who you are!"

He chuckled. "I'm the only person who can identify the killer, Tori. Not even the police or your boyfriend detective has this one figured out. He's as stupid as they come."

He could tell that she was gritting her teeth. "He's _not _stupid, first of all, and second he's not—"

"Don't be late, Victoria. And be sure to come alone." He disconnected the call before she had a chance to say anything more. Wasting no time he punched in another number and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey, boss."

"Ryder, we've got her. She'll be behind the Groovy Smoothie at around 7:00. Get rid of her, and for heaven's sakes don't leave any evidence behind."

"Why am I doing your dirty work? That's not what I signed up for. You're the one that does the killing, not me."

He leaned forward in his seat. "You signed up to do whatever I want you to, Daniels. Now do as I say or you'll be next, got that?"

"Yes, sir. Got it."

The line went dead, and he smiled slightly, tossing the phone on the passenger's seat. He checked his watch and wondered how long it would be before the corpse of Tori Vega would be discovered—in the meantime, he needed a hit.

His smile grew wider just thinking about it.

* * *

Jade hated crying. Besides sweating, if there was one thing in life she despised doing it was definitely that. But today, crying couldn't be helped. It was inevitable, when your best friend since Kindergarten was dead.

She didn't know why she went down to the morgue to view the body, even though André had strongly discouraged it when they talked on the phone. Maybe she wanted some type of closure—but seeing Cat's pale, lifeless body ignited a feeling that she didn't have when Tori told her Trina had been murdered. Sure, she'd felt a bit sad—but it was vastly different from the grief, anguish, and the deep sense of loss she felt when she saw Cat. They were like sisters, maybe even closer at one point—but all of that was gone now.

And it hurt.

Jade sucked in a deep breath, dried her eyes, and reapplied her mascara. She decided that, if he wasn't too busy, she'd go see André at the station. The last time she'd heard his voice was when he told her Cat was dead, and it'd been an even longer time since she'd seen him. Most of the times when he arrived home he would collapse in bed and fall straight asleep. It was a bit selfish, since the public needed him, but she needed him more.

She turned the street corner and pulled up in front of the station, right beside he and Beck's unmarked squad car. She took out the key and went inside, boots hitting the pavement as a wind chilled her arms.

Officers were buzzing about, doing things in various places when Jade got inside, and things seemed a lot more fast paced, more rushed than normal. They were desperate to find this killer before he struck a third time. She recognized Chief Branning and walked over to where he and a female officer sat, poring over the various file papers strewn about the desk.

"Chief Branning?"

He looked up at his name, his eyes studying her face, trying to remember who she was. The lines on his face didn't change, and his eyebrows didn't lift from recognition. "Yes, miss? What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for André Harris, is he here?"

Suddenly his face changed, and he nodded. "He's back there, in his office. You're his girlfriend, right?"

She nodded.

He stood for a second and pointed in the direction of a few offices near the back of the building. "It's the last door, should be open."

She thanked him and headed in that direction, trying to drown out the police mumbo-jumbo that was flying throughout the air—but it was hard to miss the worried tones and strained voices that were talking about her best friend.

Jade quietly entered the office, where the lights weren't as bright. Beck was leaned over a laptop that André was explaining something to him on. She watched them for a minute or so before gently clearing her throat.

André looked up first. His eyes were bloodshot, and beyond tired. His whole body looked completely worn out. Still, even though it was small, he smiled at her.

"Hey, baby." He said, standing as he embraced her tightly. Jade wrapped her arms around his neck and inhaled the familiar scent that she missed so much. She buried her face in his neck and felt fresh tears spring to her eyes, but she held them back. She wouldn't let him see her cry. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to see you." She said, pulling away so she could look at his face. "I know you've been busy but…I just kept seeing Cat in my head, and I—"

"Jade, you shouldn't have gone down there." He replied, not angry but concerned.

"I had to," She argued. "It was horrible, but…it just made me angrier. Can't you find out who's doing all of this?"

"We've been trying for the past week, so unless you have a new leads you can stop asking." Beck snapped suddenly, making them both look over at him. He looked even more stressed out than André did.

"Beck, this is hurting all of us, not just you." André shot back, a little fiercer than need be. "You don't have to go snap at Jade. She didn't do anything."

Beck rubbed his temples wearily and blew out a sigh. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry…it's just so frustrating! The same gun was used to kill them both, but we can't get any more than that! We found out that Trina owed this freak money because of drugs, but there's no evidence of Cat's situation being the same."

Jade's eyes widened. "Trina did drugs?"

"Apparently, yes. I didn't want to believe it at first but it's the only thing that makes sense…I still haven't gotten around to telling Tori any of this, so keep quiet for now, okay?" Beck stood and started to pace. "Turns out our guy is not only a murderer, but a drug lord. There's got to be a connection between the two of them. Something that would make this guy snap."

Jade took a step forward. "Trina and Cat had two totally different careers. They weren't friends, at least I don't think they were…did you try talking to Rob?"

André shook his head. "He's a mess, we just let him alone after asking a few questions. And what could he help us with?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, I just thought...wait a second. Guys, I think I've got the connection!"

They both looked at her. "What is it?" They asked in unison.

"Trina and Cat both went to Hollywood Arts, right? Maybe that's who this guy is after. It's the only thing that makes sense."

Beck rubbed his chin. "Sure, they went to Hollywood Arts but so did a dozen other girls, including you and Tori. No, it's gotta be something else."

The female officer that Jade had seen earlier suddenly peeked her head in the room. She looked excited and worried at the same time. "Beck, we've got a guy out there claiming he killed Cat and Trina."

The trio's hearts jolted.

"What's his name, Anna?" Beck asked, grabbing the briefcase off the desk and heading for the door.

Anna looked down and hesitated. "Robbie Shapiro."

* * *

**I apologize for any errors, typos, misspellings, etc, and for not updating yesterday. Also the chapter title sucks, but I couldn't think of anything else. xD **

**This chapter was ****_extremely_**** hard to write (I wrote and rewrote about five times) so I hope you're happy with it. This is a point in the story where things are nearing the end, but there's still time for some plot twists. I really hope you guys are enjoying this. I've had to do A LOT of research and put a lot of thinking into this, so that's why the chapters are long and have a lot of detail. There's so many ways I can take this, but I want you guys to be able to still follow along so I'm doing a milder version of what I'd originally planned. **

**I hope I'm keeping it relatively simple for you. :) Thanks for the reviews. I really love and appreciate you guys.**

**If you haven't yet (which I don't know why that would be the case omg), check out Kiribati's story, Hello Stranger. It's only my favorite Bori fanfiction ever.**

**-AJ**


	6. At Death's Door

Tori was shaking as she parked about a block away from the Groovy Smoothie. It was 6:50—she supposed that, if she wanted to, she still had time to back out of this strange deal. If Beck were aware that she decided to meet some stranger that had something to do with the case he'd go ballistic. But that was exactly the reason why she hadn't told him anything, and although it was hard, she had to force herself to completely ignore his phone calls.

She drew in a deep breath and thought about what she was going to do. What if the killer would be watching she and the mysterious man? What if they both got killed in the process? Then Beck would have a new, more crushing weight on his shoulders, and the killer would still be at large. What good was any information if she died before getting the chance to share it?

_I have nothing to be afraid of; it'll all be fine. Nobody's gonna get hurt…._ She told herself, turning the knob for some more heat. _He'll tell me what he knows and then I can tell Beck._

Besides, wasn't she technically helping the police? She owed it to them, along with Trina and Cat, to figure this out on her own.

She sighed, sipped her mocha latté, and leaned back in her seat, waiting for any signs of life. Looking down at her phone, she decided that maybe she could text Beck and tell him as little as possible.

Just so he wouldn't worry.

* * *

André asked Jade to wait outside in the car while he and Beck questioned Robbie; he didn't think she was safe home alone, despite the fact that they had a suspect in custody. Pretty much half the police force thought Robbie was the guy they'd been looking for over the past week and a half—André wasn't quite sure what to believe. These were one of those times when his public duty overshadowed his personal feelings on the matter.

"Rob, what are you doing here, man?" André asked in a low voice as the stenographer entered the room and took a seat in the corner. "What are you trying to do to yourself?"

Robbie removed his square-rimmed glasses and wearily rubbed his eyes. He looked back and forth between his friends, and then said, "I already told you guys, I killed them. I killed Trina and Cat. I gave myself up because it was eating me alive. I couldn't hide the truth anymore."

Beck sat down across from Robbie and drummed his fingers on the table. He adjusted something on the tape recorder and then looked back up at him. "I'm having a pretty hard time believing that, Robbie. But let's see…if you really did kill Cat and Trina, what type of gun did you use?"

Robbie squirmed in his seat. "It was a Grandpower K100."

Beck and André exchanged glances. "Rob, who are you trying to protect? It'll be easier on all of us if you'd just tell us the truth."

"But Beck, I _am_ telling the truth! And I'm not trying to protect anybody, I swear." He retorted, although Beck noted that his hands were shaking somewhat fiercely. "Just lock me up and get this over with."

André removed the toothpick he'd been chewing from his mouth. "Alright then, why'd you kill them? What was your motive?"

They had him there. Robbie suddenly slumped in his seat, cradled his head in his hands. "Okay, alright, I didn't kill Trina. But I'm the reason why Cat got shot. It's all my fault, guys. She should still be alive, this is all my fault…" Robbie began to sob quietly, and Beck rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Just tell us everything, Rob. Even though we're detectives, we're still your friends."

He nodded and sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. After putting his glasses back on, he spoke. "When Cat and I heard Trina was murdered, it left us kind of uneasy, especially since we don't live that far from her house. Cat was more scared than I was, but I kept telling her she'd be okay." The pain that lingered in his eyes showed how hard it was to talk about his wife.

"A-anyway, a couple of days after that the group that hired me out to do comedy routines let me go. Even though Cat had the bakery, sales had been pretty low lately, and my income was helping us out a whole lot. But, I couldn't face Cat, I couldn't tell her the truth. So…I hired a hit."

André looked confused, as did Beck and the stenographer, who had since stopped typing her notes and decided to listen in on the conversation.

"So, you hired a hitman to kill your wife because you lost your job?" She asked, making the three men look at her. Her face turned red and she swiveled back in her chair and began to get back to her work.

Robbie half-smiled at her, but shook his head as he turned his attention to Beck and André. "No, nothing like that. I hired a hit for myself. And yeah I know it was crazy, but I was too much of a coward to do myself in. So I met up with Ryder and—"

"Wait, are you talking about Ryder Daniels? That jerk Tori dated in highschool?" Beck asked, leaning forward in his seat. Was Ryder really a hitman, or just another pawn in the game like Banks?

Robbie nodded. "It was kinda weird because, he approached me and not the other way around. It's like he knew what I wanted before I even told him."

The wheels in Beck's brain were starting to churn rapidly. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together, but there was still something missing. "André, do you think Ryder's our guy?"

André seemed to be considering this, but then Robbie spoke up again. "No, he couldn't be. But he's got to be his right hand man. Ryder kept saying about how 'his boss' needed the money he would be getting from this job. But whatever the case, I made sure I didn't tell him my name, I just gave him the house address—"

André threw his hands up in the air. "You pretty much invited a killer into your house, man! What were you thinking?!"

"I _wasn't_ thinking, André, I already said it was a stupid idea!" Robbie shouted back.

"Okay guys, calm it down." Beck said, stepping between them. "What happened then, Robbie?"

He sighed. "I did my best to make sure Cat wouldn't be home that day. And even if she were, it would be after he would've come. But he just…he got us mixed up or something, because she's dead. When I should be." His voice broke and he swallowed thickly, forcing himself not to shed tears again.

"Rob, he didn't get you guys mixed up. He used the hitman thing as a ruse. Cat's murder was premeditated…." Beck's mind flew back to Jade's words earlier that day: _Trina and Cat both went to Hollywood Arts, right? Maybe that's who this guy is after. It's the only thing that makes sense._

"It's not just Hollywood Arts…" He mumbled. "It's _me_. He's out to kill all the important people in my life…"

"Speak English, please, man." André said, shoving his shoulder.

Suddenly Beck sprang up from his seat and started for the door. "André, Robbie, come with me. I have a feeling that our murderer is only one step ahead of us now, and if we hurry we can catch him." They exited the interrogation room and Beck stopped at Chief Branning's desk after telling André to take Robbie out to the car.

"Chief, we've got a lead but we have to hurry. I need an APB on Ryder Daniels right now."

Branning looked pissed. "Oliver, how can you stand there and order _me_ around when you just let our prime suspect walk out of the door?"

Beck sighed irritably. "Look, he's not guilty. He just blew the case wide open and if you want to catch this guy we need to find Ryder Daniels. _Now_."

Branning hesitated for a second longer before doing as he was told.

Beck nodded and started for the door, only stopping when he felt a buzz in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw that it was a text from Tori, sent two hours ago. He mentally kicked himself for not checking it earlier. He opened it and his eyes scanned it quickly:

_Hey, found out something about the case, I'll bbl. Just wanted u 2know, dw ok? :) xx_

Beck's heart crashed against his ribcage. Was Tori crazy? If anything happened to her, it'd be his fault…

He raced out to the car and got inside. If Ryder had caught up to Tori, she wouldn't even know of the danger she was in.

_She could already be dead now._

* * *

Tori jerked awake, disoriented. She cursed under her breath as she saw that the full moon was high in the sky amidst the backdrop of stars. How could she have fallen asleep? She rubbed her eyes and looked at the digital clock. It was 8:00, and she just knew that the man had came and left by now. _God, I'm so stupid…_

The brunette sighed and reached to turn the key when she heard an odd sound, like that of someone clearing their throat. She turned her head, fear pricking her arms with goosebumps, and screamed.

Ryder Daniels was sitting in her passenger's seat.

"I was wondering when you were gonna get up, Sleeping Beauty." He said, flashing that smile she'd fallen for in highschool. But Tori was too scared to relive old memories.

"How the hell did you get in here?" She asked, eyes wide as she finally found her voice.

"You left the door unlocked, missy." He shrugged and clucked his tongue. "You should know better, especially in this neighborhood."

Tori took deep breaths and tried to calm down. It was just Ryder…although it was odd, since she hadn't seen him _since_ highschool. "D-did you call me? Do you know who killed my sister and Cat?"

"Well no, I didn't call you. But as far as the murders…more or less, yeah."

Silence passed for a long moment, and Tori was beginning to get irritated. "Well…who is it?"

He shook his head, and when he moved she saw something glimmer in the moonlight. "I can't tell you."

She sighed, exasperated. "Then this whole trip was a waste of time. Get out of the car, please."

In a flash he grabbed her arm and pinned it behind her back. She screamed as pain shot up and down her arm, and she felt something cool and metal against her neck.

A knife. Ryder wasn't here to give her information. He was here to kill her. And she'd played right into his hands.

"Tori we can do this the hard way, or the easy way." He growled in her ear. "Which is it going to be, sweetheart?"

Tori close her eyes, breathing heavily, whimpering. Her brain couldn't form an answer, but as she opened her mouth to try, her PearPhone rang.

It was Beck.

Slowly, Ryder took the knife away from her neck and placed the tip at her stomach. "Answer it. Tell him you're fine. And if you as so much spill a word of this I will rip you open and spill out your guts, got it?"

She nodded and felt tears burning her eyes, but he jerked her arm and she tried her best to keep any from falling. Her left hand reached for the phone, she pushed the green button and tried to steady her voice. "Hey, Beck. What's up?"

"Tori, thank God. Where are you? I just read your message and I thought…"

"Beck, I'm fine. It was just a dead end. I shouldn't have done anything without telling you first, I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, Tor. I'm glad you're okay. But listen, we've got a lead. We definitely know Ryder Daniels is tied into this. We've got officials searching for him in the next county, but maybe you should stay with Jade until this is all over. I've pieced together the motive and the two of you aren't safe alone. When we catch Ryder we're gonna catch this killer."

Tori closed her eyes, feeling dread burning inside as a tear slipped down her cheek. "S-sure, I'll call Jade now."

Pause. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

Ryder shifted his hand, and the tip of the knife made a hole in her shirt, poking her skin. She winced and swallowed the thick lump in her throat. "I'm fine. Thanks for calling. Bye."

Ryder snatched the phone away and tossed it to the floor, crushing it with his foot. "So they're looking for me, huh? I should've known..."

"R-Ryder, listen to me. You don't have to do this. Whoever it is you're working for, it's not worth it, you don't have to do the things he says. Why take away an innocent life—"

"You think I'm doing this because someone made me? No babe, I'm doing this on my own accord, even though we're both looking forward to seeing you dead. Trust me, I've been waiting to get back at you after all these years. Now's my chance."

Ryder suddenly thrust the knife into her stomach with a wicked grin, and watched her slump against the dashboard.

Slipping on a glove from his pocket, he opened the door, quietly crept out of the car, and sped off into the night.

* * *

**Ain't it funny how we're at chapter six with about...eh...three, four chapters left and I'm the only one who knows who the murderer is? :D Sorry if the ending made you scream.**

**-AJ**


	7. And The Killer Is

_Keep your eyes open, Tori. Just keep breathing, keep breathing._

It felt as if someone had poured acid in Tori's stomach. Her vision was fuzzy, her head was pounding and her breathing was labored as she struggled to hold on. Her eyelids were feeling very heavy but she fought with all her might to keep them open. Ryder had only stabbed her once, but from the amount of blood she was losing, it had to be a pretty big wound. She had to think fast and get help, but how? Her phone was smashed and she was practically in the middle of nowhere.

Wincing, Tori's hands fumbled as she took off her blood soaked shirt. Maybe if she tied the sleeves tightly around her wound, it would slow down the bleeding, even if by a little.

Images of Beck finding her corpse flickered in her mind and she began to cry, angered by her own stupidity. What gave her the notion that she would be able to handle this case by herself? She needed help, but she knew none would come.

She tied the purple sleeves around her waist as tightly as possible, but it still wasn't enough. A long while ago her father had told her that one way of making a makeshift tourniquet was to wrap duct or masking tape around the wound. The question was, did she have any?

It was painful, but somehow she managed to lean over and pop open the glove compartment door. Her hands were sticky and blood covered as she searched for something, anything that would be strong enough to hold the shirt in place. But then, her hand landed on something more wonderful than duct tape at the moment.

It was Trina's phone.

"Thank you, God," She whispered as she tapped the screen. But bright light didn't illuminate her face, and only then did she realize with horror that the battery was dead.

She was back where she started. Bleeding to death with no way to get help.

* * *

Somehow, Chief Branning had gotten Robbie back into a holding cell for the remainder of the night. Although Cat's death technically wasn't his fault, hiring a hitman, no matter who the victim would be, was against the law. Beck promised him he'd get a good lawyer and spring him free by morning. Right now though, he and André were driving down 1st street, on their way to check on Jade and Tori. He knew she'd be safe there, more or less, but something about her phone call made him uneasy—perhaps the stress of this whole case was just making him unusually paranoid.

The police scanner crackled to life and a voice came through, loud and clear. "Headquarters calling car 45, Oliver and Harris. Come in car 45."

Beck pushed a button and accepted the incoming transmission. "Oliver here. What have you got for us, chief? Have you located Daniels yet?"

"As a matter of fact yes, our undercover man just called in and saw him going into a dive and bar on 42nd street. Do you know where that is?"

André punched it into the GPS. "We're on our way now, chief. Anything else?"

"Yeah, and we think he might've gotten a new victim. Our guy says his hand has blood on it. Right now we're trying to keep him there as long as we can until you all get there."

Beck's chest tightened, and he glanced at André. His facial expression had changed too, but whether he was worried about Tori or Jade he wasn't sure. Either way, once the scanner clicked off, he said, "André, call Jade. See if she's okay and then see if Tori is over there with her."

André fumbled for his phone. "And if she's not?"

Beck didn't want to think about that. "Just call her, man. We've got to hurry."

By the time André finished the call, they'd pulled up in front of the bar on 42nd street. "Jade said Tori didn't come by at all tonight." André said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

Beck cursed and slammed his hand on the wheel. The phone call with Tori had left him uneasy for a reason. She'd been in trouble, but he was too dumb to even realize it. "Okay look, she sent me a text earlier but I don't even know where she would be. We've gotta find her, man."

"We gotta get Ryder first, then we can focus on Tori. I'm gonna send Matt back to stay outside the house to keep Jade safe. Just 'cause Ryder's in there doesn't mean we're out of the woods yet."

Beck didn't answer. He was too worried about Tori—had he let another life slip through his fingers?

* * *

The shirt wasn't helping much, but it was better than nothing. Tori tied the sleeves tighter, whimpering loudly, and then reached painfully across the seat to put her jacket over her shoulders. She needed to get a grip and focus on finding help. As hard as it was, she tried to remember the hours for the Groovy Smoothie; did they close at 8 or 9? Either way, there had to be an employee lingering around, either working the late shift or closing up for the night. Someone could call 911, get help…

"Gotta…get outta here…" She slurred, gripping the silver handle and flinging the car door open. She grabbed Trina's phone and shoved it into her pocket even though it was dead; no use in leaving it in the car. Closing her eyes, she launched forward and tumbled out of the car, landing face down on the damp grass. Fire ignited in the wound and she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She couldn't focus on the pain right now, she needed to keep going.

Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, Tori shakily forced herself to her feet. The world spun in circles and she put a hand to her head, trying to steady herself. Her legs felt like Jell-O but she started walking down the sidewalk. Staggering from side to side, if anyone could see her now they would definitely assume she was drunk. The colorful building seemed light-years away, and her knees buckled at one point. Gritting her teeth, she trudged onward.

The roar of an engine broke her out of the agonizing reverie she'd been in, and she slowly turned her head. A man in a baseball cap had pulled up alongside her, worry etched in his features. "Miss, are you okay?"

She recognized that voice from somewhere. But she couldn't think, much less determine if this was a friend or a foe. "N-no. I need to get to a hospital. I've been stabbed."

As if on cue, the man got out of the truck and wrapped his arms around her, guiding her to his vehicle. "Don't worry, it'll be alright. I'll drive you there right now."

She wanted to succumb to the unconscious world that was whispering her name, but she fought it with all of her might. "Just…hurry. Please…"

The man said nothing, just ushered her into the back of the truck. Once he got in the driver's seat, he locked the doors and revved forward past the smoothie shop.

"What happened to you, anyhow?" He asked, looking in the rear view mirror.

"I got stabbed. It's a long story that I don't want to tell." She put one hand on her stomach and tried to focus on her respiration. "I'm glad you came when you did...I was afraid that I'd die."

"I suggest you not dispel that fear, Tori." His voice had gotten considerably darker, and fear shot down her spine. The question _"How did you know my name?" _fluttered through her mind, but she couldn't force the words to escape.

"Ryder's a bit incompetent when it comes to killing, but then again he's always had a vendetta against you. And that's why he didn't succeed tonight." The truck slowed to a stop, and he removed the baseball cap from his head and turned around to face her, smiling. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time, Tori. But don't worry your pretty little head over it, it'll all be over soon."

Tori shook profusely, from both fear and the effect the wound was having on her. Her vision kept throbbing in and out, but when it finally did focus, a small little gasp escaped her mouth—if only the phone in her pocket had some battery left, she'd be able to tell the police that the murderer they'd been looking for all this time was Erwin Sikowitz.

* * *

**I think everyone in the entire world saw that coming! But if you didn't,** **I'm glad I was able to keep the suspense element going. Thanks so much for all the support you all have given this story. Only three more chapters left! **

**-AJ**


	8. The Clock Is Ticking

Beck and André entered the bar, the smell of smoke and alcohol assaulting their nostrils. Beck definitely would've stopped to by a drink in order to calm his nerves, but he knew there was no time to waste. Tori's life was on the line, and if they didn't hurry things would turn ugly—or worse—very quickly.

André spotted Matt and gave him a subtle nod, to which the burly man responded to by getting up from his seat at the bar counter and leaving out towards the back of the room. Beck removed his gun from his holster but kept it well hidden, as not to scare the other patrons in the room. He advised André to do the same; once that was done they walked over to Ryder, who was downing another drink while chatting with a skimpily dressed blonde girl.

"I'm so not sorry for tearing you away from your business here, but we need to talk." Beck said, grabbing Ryder by the shirt collar with one hand and pushing the girl away with the other. She scowled and scurried away to find someone new, as Ryder's face scrunched up in mock confusion—as if he didn't know why they'd come.

"Hey, lay off!" Ryder growled and ripped Beck's hand away. "What are you roughing me up for? I was just having a drink."

The fatigue, frustration and anger that had been built up within Beck seeped out in a flash. He hauled back and slapped Ryder across the face, something that was no doubt uncharacteristic. He raised his voice, not caring about proper etiquette or who thought he was being obnoxious "Listen to me, you little creep. If you don't tell me what you did with Tori I will _not_ hesitate put a bullet through your forehead. Just like you did with my fiancée, and my best friend."

A murmur rose throughout the others in the bar, including the owner. All eyes were on the cause of their disturbance; André noted this and tried to pull Beck back a little. "Cool it off, man." He told his partner in his ear. "Last thing we need is a police brutality charge."

Just then, Mario, the bartender and owner of the establishment, came from behind the counter and stepped in between Beck, André and Ryder. He looked anything but happy. "What goes on here?" He asked, his Italian accent still thick. "You tryin' to scare my customers away?"

Beck was about to explain the situation but André beat him to it, knowing he was still fuming. Still, Mario was not impressed and told them to take their business outside or else he'd call law enforcement—neither of the men bothered telling him that they were said law enforcement.

The cool night air hit Beck's face and he sighed, trying to rub away the pain from the headache that was oncoming. He shifted his hand, making his pistol visible to Ryder—he tensed slightly.

Beck stepped forward. "Start talking. _Now_."

A clipped chuckle escaped Ryder's lips, and if André hadn't of tugged on his arm Beck would've definitely put a few bullets through him. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not entitled to tell you a thing."

In one swift motion, André stepped forward, balled his fist, and planted it into Ryder's stomach—seeming to forget his words earlier. As Ryder doubled over in pain, André grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and roughly pushed him up against the wall. "You're the kind of guy that deserves to rot in hell. I swear to God once we're done with you, we will. Now you're going to start using that big mouth of yours to tell me where my best friend is, and if you don't hurry, it'll be the last words you ever say. You got that?"

Ryder winced. "Got it."

André nodded briskly and stepped back, letting Beck take over. "I want you to tell me who's been doing all of this. And where Tori is."

Ryder was still gasping for breath as he sputtered out a response. "I-I…she's dead, man. And if she isn't he probably took her…God, I think my ribs are broken…"

"Stop being a pussy." André growled, but Beck barely heard him. Ryder's words, although somewhere in his heart he felt they were lies, began to churn deep within him. Was Tori really gone, and this whole search had been in vain? Or was she clinging to life, in desperate need of help?

"Where did you leave her, man?" Beck shook him a little, in the process erasing the images of Tori's limp figure from his head. "Where is she?!"

Pause. "I don't know, dude—"

Beck grabbed Ryder's arm and twisted it behind his back. "Now do you know?"

"Ah! She's at the Groovy Smoothie man, that's all I know!" He cried out, his eyes squeezing shut as his face turned red. "Either she's dead or he took her, that's it I swear to God, man!"

"Who is he?" André demanded. "Who are you working for? Who's been doing all this?"

Ryder cursed loudly from the pain, gasping for breath. "Your psycho teacher, man! I told you everything now just let me go!"

Beck looked at André, whose gruff expression had quickly melted into pained one. They both felt as if _they_ were the ones who'd been punched in the gut.

Beck let Ryder go and watched him slump to the ground briefly before whipping out his walkie-talkie and tossing it to André. "Get the Chief informed and every officer we've got looking for Tori and Sikowitz, we have no time to waste." He then picked Ryder up and dragged him towards the squad car. "You and me are going for a little ride, buddy."

André followed behind them, speaking in a rushed manner. "Chief, this is Harris reporting in, I need dispatch to send out the uniforms to the Groovy Smoothie on Eastern Avenue right this second. We've got our man his name his Erwin Sikowitz, he's in his mid-forties, balding brown hair, brown eyes, usually has coconuts not to far away from him…"

* * *

A loud, metal clanking noise startled Tori awake from the deep yet painful slumber she'd been in. She squinted, trying to get a bearing on her surroundings, but that was impossible seeing as it was pitch black. Her legs were bound together tightly by duct tape, as were her hands that were tied behind a rusty metal chair. She couldn't tell if she was still bleeding or not; it felt as if someone had put a shirt on her already chilly upper body.

The noise sounded again and she jumped, the fear escalating in her veins as a lump formed in her throat. There was no way on Earth she was getting out of this, unless a miracle happened—no, there was no chance of that. She'd die tonight.

It made her feel weak, but she started to cry again. Not just because she'd been incredibly stupid in her decision-making, but the events of the past week had drained her completely, left her void and her emotions reeling. Maybe she hadn't properly had the time to grieve Trina or Cat's death, but whatever the case was she knew her parents, her friends, and Beck would be grieving her own very soon.

_Beck_. She remembered the phone call earlier that night and tried to recall his voice, the warmth in his tone. He'd always cared so deeply about her but she'd always been too afraid to go ahead and just take the step they both knew they wanted. Now, it was too late. She would never get the chance to tell him that she loved him…

_Crrrreak._

Light flooded the room and hit Tori square in the face, making her cry out weakly. Slow, deliberately slow footsteps made their way towards her and she shivered.

"How are you holding up, my dear?" Sikowitz asked, smiling the way he used to when creating a plot for an Improv scene.

Tori scowled. "Get the hell away from me. The police are going to find you, Sikowitz, and you'll get caught. And if not them, then Beck will. I know he will."

Sikowitz laughed loudly. "Oh I'm positively shaking! The police are coming for me, save me, Tori!" He continued to laugh as if it were the funniest thing in the world. "That's where you've got it all wrong, sweetheart. Before the police or Beck or anyone else can come—" He paused, raising something large and heavy, "You'll be dead."

Tori didn't even know what cane over her; maybe it was burst of adrenaline, the thought of never getting to see Beck again, or pure craziness—whatever it was, it drove her to rear back and smash her forehead into his.

Disoriented, Sikowitz cried out and slumped to the floor, the gun sliding from his fingers. When his head hit the cement with a small thud, she waited and listened for any movement—there was none.

She was safe, for now, even though her head hurt like hell. The only thing she had to do next was get free from this duct tape—but she had to hurry.

The clock was constantly ticking, and time was running out.

* * *

**Did I mean to leave you all without a chapter for nearly a week? Of course not, I love you all too much for that. But, as I unfortunately had to explain to my professor, the reason why I'd fallen a bit behind in my work was because of this fanfic. I'm sure you guys understand. Thanks for waiting. We're nearing the end! The next chapter will be long, at least I hope. See ya!  
**

**-AJ**


	9. Closing In On The Enemy

**_Hey! It's still me, still AJ. But I changed my name because I've had it for over a year and I wanted something new. :) _**

* * *

Beck made sure to not only cuff Ryder's hands, but his ankles as well before he and André exited the car to join the swarm of officers outside the Groovy Smoothie. He immediately told one of the rookie cops to guard the car and make sure Ryder didn't try anything. After which they walked over, joining Chief Branning who was orchestrating the search of Tori's car.

"What's it looking like, chief?" Beck asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Branning looked as though someone had woken him up out of some peaceful sleep. "It's looking like he killed her then dumped her body someplace. There's a copter searching the woods nearby for any sign of her. Also we got the owner of the smoothie shop on the phone a little while ago, he should be down here soon. We found a crushed cell phone on the floor and there's enough blood on the seat for Dracula to have a dinner party with."

Beck's stomach sank at the news. "We've got Ryder now, it's just a matter of finding Sikowitz. Has he been spotted around here within the last hour?"

Branning nodded. "We've got a worker who claims she saw an old, beat up Ford Explorer parked outside. When it was time to close up for the night she looked out and it was gone. Thankfully she remembered the license plate number." He paused, pulling his phone from his pocket. "This should be the report right now. Hey, this is Branning. What've you got?"

The chief stepped away and Beck wordlessly made his way towards the car. He recognized Jack, who was on the passenger's side dusting the floor and the open glove compartment for any fingerprints. "Even though we've got our man, it won't hurt to run these through the database." He told Beck without looking up. Beck crouched down beside him, took out a tissue from his pocket and carefully picked up Tori's crushed cell phone, examining it in his hand. He tried not to imagine what she had gone through, but it was hard.

"If I had've been more alert…" He whispered, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

Jack looked over and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Don't worry, man. She's gonna be alright."

It took everything to suppress the anger that suddenly arose in Beck's chest. "How can you even say that? Isn't it obvious that she's gone?"

"What's obvious is that one stab wound can't kill a person—I can tell it was only once because the amount of blood in the car isn't enough for someone to have bled to death—doesn't mean she's out of woods just yet, though.

Beck stared at him in disbelief. "You can tell all that by just looking?"

Jack nodded. "Listen, just because I'm a forensic scientist doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two about the medical field." He stopped and looked at Beck seriously for a moment. "You have to be at the top of your game from here on out, Beck. Tonight it's do or die. And I'm almost %100 sure he wants you to die."

_If that's the case,_ Beck thought, _then I'm ready for anything._

Suddenly he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw André. "Yeah, man? What is it?"

"We found them, man. They traced the license plate and we know where Sikowitz and Tori are—I'm gonna have Josh take Ryder back to the station and then we gotta roll."

Beck sprang up quicker than lightning. "Let's go, man. I'll grab the Kevlar's outta the car, things could get dangerous."

André nodded and followed his partner towards their squad car.

* * *

Sikowitz's head was throbbing, and it took almost everything inside of him to open his eyes. He groaned, mumbled a curse under his breath and slowly sat up. Someone had taken him out of the room where Tori was and placed him on a couch. He looked around and heard the sound of someone typing on a keyboard—Sinjin sat in one corner of the room, working with something on a laptop. Wincing, Sikowitz stood and walked over to his former student. "What're you doing?"

Sinjin didn't look at him, just kept typing. "Talking with Jade. She thinks it's André, but I've got her duped."

"How are you talking to her? Did you turn the computer into his phone?"

Sinjin nodded. "Yeah. You were out for a while there."

He rubbed his head and sighed. "Yeah, she's still got that fight in her. Is she still up?"

"Nope, passed out ten minutes ago. She should be dead in about an hour or two, depending if she keeps losing blood as fast as she was."

Sikowitz sighed and looked towards the closed door. "I didn't really want things to turn out like that. By the time we nab Jade, Tori'll probably be gone. Stupid Ryder."

Sinjin paused and took the time to look up then. "How are you gonna blame him? This stupid plan of yours—"

"Stupid?!" He snapped, whipping his head back around. "Don't talk to _me_ about stupid, weirdo. I didn't want to have to get you in any of this. You're the one with the personal vendetta against Jade."

"And _you're_ the one who wanted all four of these girls for yourself when they were still at Hollywood Arts. But that didn't work, so you decided to kill them instead. And then you figured after killing Trina that you could ruin Beck's life while you're at it—"

"Shut _up_." He growled, backhanding the younger man angrily. "Are you with me or against me? Or will I have you just add you to the list?"

Cheek throbbing, Sinjin readjusted his glasses and turned back to the task at hand. "Should I tell Jade to meet André somewhere or just go and get her?"

Sikowitz folded his arms. "Go and get her. I want the last two to die at the same time."

Sinjin nodded, closing down the laptop, grabbing his revolver, and slipping out into the still of the night.

Once his lackey was gone, Sikowitz plopped back down on the couch and put his head in his hands. How had it come to this? How had he gone from the kooky acting teacher that everyone liked, to a cold-blooded murderer over ten years later? This wasn't the life he'd planned on leading.

Then again, there was really no way to justify all the wrongdoing than to kill…there was some sort of satisfaction he got every time he knew another was dead.

It would all be over after tonight, though. He was sure of it.

A sudden thought crossed his mind: what if Sinjin didn't make it back okay? Jade was the strongest out of all four, he knew, and she wouldn't hesitate to fight back if it meant her life. No, he'd need to follow behind Sinjin and make sure the job would be done without any hitches in the road.

He quickly peeked into the room where Tori was, just to make sure she wasn't regaining consciousness—once satisfied, he slipped out of the back door and made his way to the ATV parked on the sidewalk. A loud vehicle, yes—but it'd have to do since the only other option was already miles down the road.

He started the bike and sped off into the night, eager to finish what he'd started. Eager to see justice finally being served.

* * *

Warily, Jade kept poring over the texts she was receiving from who she thought, and hoped, was her boyfriend. Something wasn't right here—wasn't he out on the field? And why, of all things, would he be texting her? André almost always called her whenever something was going on—no, this was definitely not André.

She walked over to the kitchen counter, set her mug of coffee down on the granite surface, and then peered out of the kitchen curtains. The silhouette of Matt Barnes was still there, smoke from his cigarette swirling around in the night air. His presence made her feel a little safer, but the texts did no such thing. Her eyes fell back down to the screen, and goosebumps pricked her arms:

_Hey, baby. Case is closed. Coming home now. Love you._

Several things were wrong with it, but the most obvious was the fact that "André" had called her baby. When they first begun dating, that was one word Jade made him vow never to call her—that was Beck's thing, and she certainly didn't want the memories of that relationship popping up in this one.

This was a trap. But should she even risk calling him if someone was messing with the communications?

Jade picked up the cup and sipped some of the dark liquid. The idea of Matt taking her somewhere away from the house sounded nice right about now…

_BANG!_

Jade screamed, the cup slipping from her hands and shattering all over the floor as a loud pop resonated outside. She heard scuffling and yelling on the porch, and then another pop—followed by a slump, and then silence.

Shaking, Jade grabbed her phone and slipped it into her pocket. She didn't know whether to run or hide—either way, the killer would no doubt find her.

_Pull it together, Jade._ She told herself, stepping over the pieces of broken glass. The sound of the doorknob turning slowly made her heart beat faster, and without much thought she bolted upstairs and into she and André's bedroom.

"Where is it, where is it…" She mumbled, turning over the bed sheets as she searched for the only thing that would keep her alive at the moment—the small revolver she bought almost a year ago. Until now, there'd never been a good reason to use it—seeing as footsteps were bounding up the stairs, the good reason was right now.

Finally, she found it. It was on the top shelf of the closet, nestled deep between her old summer clothes. She checked the chamber and was relieved to find it loaded. The footsteps were coming closer, and she drew in a deep breath and tried to steady her hand as she wrapped her finger around the trigger.

The intruder burst into the room, and even though her brain wanted to pause and register the fact that Sinjin Van Cleef stood in front of her, her muscles in her fingers wouldn't allow it.

Jade pulled the trigger before he could even get a good grip on his weapon. Once, twice, three times. Sinjin slumped to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Her legs felt weak, and her stomach was churning at a mile a minute. Was she out of danger completely? Were there more people coming?

Breathing heavily, she stepped forward and dragged the corpse to the hallway and rolled it to the side of the stairs. First, she needed to check to see if Matt was still alive; second, she had to see if anyone else was out there, waiting for her to walk into another trap.

"Why, hello there, Jade. And how are we doing this fine evening?"

Jade's head snapped up and this time, she did allow her brain to pause and process that her former acting teacher was standing in front of her, gun pointed straight at her chest. Without blinking she raised her own weapon—but he was on her in a second, both guns sliding across the carpeted floor. He tackled her to the ground but before he could pin her arms she kneed him in the groin and scrambled for her weapon, sweat dripping down her face.

Jade wrapped her hand around it and whipped around, fumbling for the trigger—but he grabbed her hand and twisted the barrel towards her. She grunted and tried to push it away, tried to get the upper hand, but it was too late.

The gun went off, and ripples of pain resonated throughout Jade's body. Her vision started to darken, and she felt his weight lift from her. But she wasn't dead, not yet at least. All she had to do was make him think she was.

She lowered her eyelids so that they were slits, and purposefully dug her nails into her palms very hard to keep her mind alert. Sure, it added to the pain but Jade did her best to take it. She listened as his footsteps quickly retreated out of the room.

Insides feeling like fire, she shifted to her side and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Slowly she reached one hand to retrieve her phone from her back pocket, and with her fingers trembling violently, she dialed 911.

* * *

**Derp.**

**-arianacabello**


	10. Showdown

The police scanner crackled to life once again, and Beck hurriedly flipped the switch and spoke as he turned onto Webster Ave. "Oliver and Harris, on our way to apprehend the suspect right now. What's going on?"

"Not expecting you guys to stop what you're doing," the voice of Jenna Parker, the stenographer that also doubled as one of the radio dispatchers, spoke back to him with urgency. "But we just got a report of a potential homicide on Brightseat Road about twenty minutes ago. The perp leaving the house matches the description of Sikowitz; one of the neighbors saw him."

"Potential homicide?" Beck repeated, feeling another load of stress starting to weigh on his shoulders. "What does that mean, Jen?"

"Vic's name is Jade West, Chief just said. Last I checked they were taking her to the ER—I've got nothing definite, but I think she was shot in the chest."

Beck's grip on the wheel tightened and he stole a glance at André—his best friend was staring straight ahead, his expression having not changed since the call came in. "Look, as long as they've got some of the uniforms down there we aren't needed on the scene. Thanks, Jen. Let us know Jade's condition, if at all possible." He switched the machine off, sighed deeply, and slowed down to a complete halt. "I think this is the place, man. Do you see a car or truck anywhere?"

"No, nothing." André swallowed thickly and wiped his eyes. "Beck, can we go ahead and kill this bastard so I can see if my girlfriend's gonna be alive tomorrow?"

Beck nodded, strapping on the Kevlar and grabbing his gun. "Jade's strong, she'll pull through, I swear. Let's go."

André suited up and blew out a sigh, opening the door and stepping out into the night. "We can't just barge in there. As soon as he sees us he'll kill Tori, so we need a game plan."

"So what should we do, then?" Beck whispered, coming around to the front of the car. "It's not safe going in one at a time…"

They heard a loud rumbling and immediately ducked down, hidden from view as an ATV pulled up on the street beside the worn down brick building. Beck peeked his head out very slowly, breathing heavily. Upon seeing Sikowitz leave the ATV, grab something from the back hatch, and walk inside, his heart skipped a beat. It was then that he made up his mind. He knew what had to be done in order to save Tori's life. It would be risky, he knew, but totally worth it—if things ran smoothly.

"Listen, I'll go in there alone. It's me he wants, to be honest. If I go in there—" He paused, holstering his gun, and reached to undo the straps on his vest. "Without any weapons or anything, he'll let his guard down. I can capitalize on that, take him down, and then get Tori out of there. It's literally the only option we have right now."

André put his hand on Beck's shoulder. "I'm not letting you die, you hear me? We go in together or we don't go in at all. Tori's my best friend, and I can't just sit here and do nothing while she's dying in there—"

Beck cut him off. "Man, you just said it yourself—if we both go in yelling and shooting everything in sight, he'll kill Tori and us too, if he gets the chance. That's _not safe_, dude_._ We have to do it my way or else we're basically screwed. All I need you to do is be on standby, I'll radio you if I need any help. This is important to both of us, yeah, but I sure as hell don't want to put two more lives in jeopardy. Just make sure you call in for backup, okay?"

André still seemed to be on the fence as far as Beck's decision, and he chewed on his lip. But after what seemed like a long while, he gave in. "Okay fine, I trust you. Go."

Beck nodded briskly, sucked in a deep breath, and rushed forward towards the building, shoes padding hurriedly across the pavement. He quickly looked back once just to make sure André hadn't decided to follow him; pressing onward, he saw that there were lights on inside and a silhouette paced back and forth almost frantically. Carefully he crept towards it and ducked down just below the window ceil.

It was now or never.

* * *

Jade West was lucky to be alive.

The paramedics had been able to revive her out of unconsciousness the minute they'd arrived after her frantic call. Although her speech was slurred, she was able to recall the events of what had happened before passing out again—the news only prompted the police to work faster. Sinjin's corpse had been removed from the house and wheeled down to the morgue, where people handling the case could piece together more evidence. Matt Barnes, thankfully, had survived his wounds, although they were far more critical than Jade's, he would pull through. Despite the fact that she'd gotten shot in the chest, the bullet _just_ missed Jade's heart and instead traveled downward. The blood loss was medium, and it bruised the hell out of her lungs—not to mention she'd be in the hospital for over a week.

But wasn't a hospital bed better than a casket?

After the surgery, the head doctors decided that Jade was recovering well enough to be moved to a private room, but around the clock care was needed in case there was some sort of unexpected setback. The bandages wrapped around her upper body made her uncomfortable, and as much as she would've like to, she couldn't just take them off and walk out of the hospital.

She sighed and adjusted her pillow, turning to the nurse that sat by her bedside, reading a magazine. "Hey, can someone call my boyfriend and let him know I'm okay? I don't want him to be freaking out over nothing."

The blonde chuckled. "I don't think getting the chest is 'nothing'."

Jade rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't have happened if I had've just gotten the upper hand."

"I know, you've told me what happened a thousand times over." She then stood, placing the magazine back on the table where'd she gotten it. "Still, tell me his name and I'll call him."

Jade rattled off the info quickly, and sighed as the nurse left the room. She turned down the volume on the TV and came to terms with something—she had been scared during that whole ordeal. Honestly, who wouldn't? Someone pointing a gun at your face wasn't exactly something that made you smile, especially if it was someone you trusted when you were younger.

And that made Jade's insides begin to boil with hatred. The person who'd pointlessly shot Trina, and then murdered her best friend had been under their noses the whole time. Granted, Sikowitz had purposefully made the effort to stay hidden, but that didn't mean he had the right to do what he'd done.

Jade sighed, putting those thoughts away for now—fatigue was starting to weigh heavily on her. Before her eyelids fully closed, she offered up a prayer for André's safety, hoping that he was out of harm's way.

And also, that God could strike Sikowitz down with lightning.

* * *

Problems, problems, problems.

Sikowitz knew very well that his plan—his oh so carefully calculated plan—was falling apart literally every second. He hadn't meant for Jade's demise to play out the way it did—really though, what was a killing without any spectators? There was no fun in that…no, none at all.

And now, he was running out of time. The last time he checked, Tori was still unconscious, but as Sinjin said earlier, the amount of blood loss _could _very well end her life early. He sighed heavily, ran a hand over what hair he had left, and then whipped his head to the right, looking in the direction of the window—he could've sworn he saw someone outside.

Were the police on his trail? Lately, the way he'd been handling things had been so abrupt that he hadn't been thinking clearly—Sinjin was dead, Ryder had been arrested, and then there was Jade's unscripted death. Things were slowly unwinding, spiraling out of control.

Had he failed already, or was there still more time?

_Paranoia._ He surmised. Shaking off that feeling, he grabbed his gun and stepped inside the room where he was keeping his last victim. Audience or not, she would die tonight—at this point the ruthlessness inside of him was taking over. But honestly he didn't care. He'd failed in so many other areas that now, right this very moment, was the only way he could redeem himself.

He grabbed a pocketknife and set to work, slicing the duct tape from her wrists and her ankles. She stirred slightly, groaning painfully, but didn't wake up. He lifted her shirt and bent down to inspect the wound; it still looked bad, maybe even worse than before. If she didn't get to a hospital now…

The sound of police sirens made him stiffen. He barged out of the room and scurried to the front window, alarmed to find squad cars surrounding the building. He saw officers swirling around, one with a megaphone in hand. And then, he saw Beck—his body language gave off the impression that he was angry about something.

Sikowitz frantically pressed his back up against the door, heart racing, sweat dotting beads across his forehead. He was caught; there was no other way out of it. Which in turn meant that the notion that he'd seen someone out of the window hadn't been a random hallucination—Beck had been waiting like a lion trying to catch his prey, just waiting to get his hands on him so he could kill him.

It was meant to be a surprise attack, but with the other officers here now that had failed…but then, the panic inside suddenly fleeted, and Sikowitz felt a wicked grin appear on his face. Yes, the police were outside—but they wouldn't dare try and kill him if he had a hostage. It would have to be the only way for any of this to still work, for any justice to still be served.

He had his audience.

* * *

"What the hell are you guys doing?!" Beck demanded in a harsh whisper, striding over to his colleagues. "What in God's name is going on? André!" His eyes flashed to his partner, demanding an explanation.

André held up his hands. "I swear, this ain't my fault. I radioed for backup, that was it. All I did was what you told me to do, man."

"I said only if I needed them," Beck growled. He looked toward the building and shook his head, still pissed. "Now my cover's blown. The only thing we can do now is force him out of there, and hope we can scare him into coming out. Brandon, gimmie that." He snatched the megaphone from the officer's hand, pushed the button. "Sikowitz! We've got the place surrounded, come out with your hands up!"

Much to everyone's surprise, the door slowly creaked open and Sikowitz poked his head out, crying surrender. The slew of officers raised their weapons, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Beck held up his hand, putting the megaphone down at his side. "Guys, wait. Something's not right here."

"If you want to kill me…" He shouted back, seeming to struggle as he fully opened the door. "You're gonna have to kill Tori, too!"

Beck's heart dropped into his stomach as Sikowitz forced Tori out of the house, his hand tightly grabbing a fistful of her hair as he held a pistol to the base of her skull. She was sobbing, her skin looked pale, and her face was lined with cuts and bruises.

"Hold your fire, all of you. Don't do a damn thing unless I say so, alright?" He whispered harshly to those behind him. Beck discreetly brushed his hand against his holster, to make sure his weapon was still there, and then started walking towards Tori and Sikowitz. The only way things could end on a positive side for the police and for Tori was if he was able to talk him out of this, convince him that it wouldn't work out.

"Beck, you come any closer and I'll shoot her. I swear to God. I'm not kidding." The look in his eyes easily backed up his claims. Beck held up his hands, but not too high, that way Sikowitz wouldn't see his weapon. It was best to make things appear differently from what they were. "There's no reason to get riled up, Sikowitz. I'm just here to talk things over with you."

"I don't want to talk to you!" He snapped, jerking Tori slightly. His finger found the trigger again, and Beck tensed. He had to hurry. "This is the only way to make things right. Don't try and stop me."

Beck dared himself to take another step. "Why are you doing all of this? What did Tori ever do to you?" He patted his chest with his right hand. "It's me you want. Let her go. Kill me instead, please. Don't drag her into this."

Tori's watery eyes locked with his, silently pleading, begging him to stop with this façade. Beck wished desperately that he could offer her some sort of reassurance, but there wasn't any time for that. He tried to keep his voice even, steady. "C'mon, Sikowitz. Just let her go—"

"That's not gonna work, Oliver. Don't try the sympathy thing with me! It's do or die, and I vote for the latter." He paused, breathing heavily, a wild look in his eyes. "I have three bullets left in here. One for her, one for you, and one for myself…"

Beck's heart was crashing against his ribcage, and it was getting tougher to focus. He tried to think about what to say next. "Why are you doing this?" He asked again, lowering his voice. "It doesn't make any sense. What did I ever do to you?"

"All of this is your fault!" He screamed. "You were always better than me, all of you were! I didn't want things to turn out this way…I didn't _want_ to be an acting teacher. There was so much more I wanted out of life…"

_He's starting to let his guard down._ Beck thought, his mind racing. "So why did you kill them?"

"I loved all of you…some more than others." The meaning behind that sentence made Beck's stomach churn with a new hatred, and it took everything not to whip out his gun and put a bullet through his forehead. "You all were like the kids I never had. But, once you got older, I-I guess seeing your success just made me so _angry_ that I lost my head. With Trina, it was the drugs…only she didn't know it was me. Chad Banks was the go-between. I didn't mean to kill her, Beck. She owed me money is all, and then Cat, she just…I knew if she was gone it'd mess you up more than Trina." Sikowitz had tears in his eyes by the time he finished his rant. He was really messed up—would it be enough to get him to release Tori?

Slowly, he stretched his hand, trying to grasp Tori's, but something happened that froze everyone on the spot.

A bullet was fired.

After Beck realized that Sikowitz had been shot in the arm, although the origin of the bullet was unknown, the next few seconds were a blur. Sikowitz screamed in pain, dropping Tori like hot coals—Beck lunged forward, catching her in his arms and they both sank to the ground because Tori was too weak in order to hold her own weight.

Beck wanted to scream and practically rip off the head of whoever fired that shot—didn't they know that they were further jeopardizing an already tense situation? Tori started sobbing harder, hands clutching his shirt desperately as he held her tightly.

"It's okay, Tor. I got you." He whispered, breathing heavily. His charade was long over, and he found himself staring into the barrel of a gun. "Sikowitz, please. Can't you see that it doesn't make sense to keep going on and on like this? Just let it go. You're already injured, it's not worth it—"

"Shut up! Just shut up." He spoken brokenly, wincing from the pain as he continued to bleed, the hand that held the gun shaking profusely. "You tried, but I won! I came out victorious!" He started to laugh loudly, like towards the end of one of those horribly written sci-fi films. He forced them to their feet, Beck still holding Tori tightly, as he pointed the gun at them. "Say goodnight, detective."

Beck realized just how dead serious he was, no pun intended. Whatever he'd made of his life flashed before his eyes…the happy moments, the sad moments, the moments he missed out on—all the games of cat and mouse he and Tori had played. "Listen to me, Tori Vega." He said in a rushed tone, lifting her head. His heart was breaking at the pain in her eyes, pain he wished he could put to rest. "_I love you_. I love you so fucking much and I always will. I'm sorry for being such a pussy and not acting on my feelings. If this is the last time we see each other…" A lump formed in his throat, and tears burned his eyes. "Just remember that."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her smile until that moment. "I love you too. And I won't stop, even when we're in Heaven."

"I'm sorry." Sikowitz's gruff voice broke them free of their moment, still desperate. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but—"

_"Beck!_" André's voice boomed from out of nowhere. "_GET DOWN!"_

Beck didn't think twice, he just tackled Tori to the ground and shielded her body as several rounds of bullets were fired from inside the building. He looked up just in time to see Sikowitz's body, ravaged with new bullets, slump to the concrete.

All was still for what seemed like eternity. And then, loud whoops and hollers sounded from the officers as they celebrated. The horrible nightmare was over.

They had done it. They'd won.

* * *

**We're not done yet! We still have the funerals in the next chapter, Robbie's release from prison, etc. This chapter was THE LONGEST I've written, clocking in at 3,105 words. :) I'm proud of myself.**

**Also I'd like to thank my uncle, who's a police officer, for not arresting me when I asked him, "How can you shoot someone in the chest and not kill them?" xD he helped me out a lot with this story, actually.**

**Review please! Next chapter will be up soon. It's gonna be much shorter, but I hope you love it regardless. **

**-ac**


	11. Bittersweet (Epilogue)

Beck removed his holster, gun, badge, and anything else that he usually had with him, and then laid them side-by-side on David Branning's desk. Then, he took the large Manila folder and placed it in his boss's hand. "That should be everything, chief. I'll get André to help clean out my desk tomorrow."

Branning looked troubled, and he heaved a deep sigh as he rubbed his chin. Although they were the only ones inside his office, almost every officer in the station was either watching or listening in on their conversation. "You don't have to do this, Oliver. You're possibly the best detective the LAPD has had in nearly ten years. We can't afford to lose you."

Beck chuckled. "So I've been told. This is harder for me than it is for you, Dave. But Tori and I talked, and we both thought my retirement would be for the best. I know it's crazy since I'm still young, but..." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "These past few months were the worst in my entire life, and I don't plan on going through anything like that again. Besides, I wanna settle down and start a family with my girl. I can't do that if somebody puts a bullet in my heart. I've come pretty close to that more than one time."

Branning pushed his chair away from the desk, stood, and extended his hand. Beck reached out and shook it firmly. "I respect your decision, Beck. Although I'm not too happy about it, but if you feel it's the best thing for you right now, them so be it."

Beck nodded. "It is, sir."

He smiled, a somewhat rare occurrence for the gruff 48 year-old. "Then I for one wish you the best of luck. And if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us."

"I appreciate that, chief."

They shook hands again, shared a brief and slightly awkward hug, and then Beck stepped out of the office, taking a deep breath as he looked around the place that had been his second home for years. A few of the officers, namely Jenna and Jack, stepped forward to talk to him. Everyone's moods were lower than low, considering that one of their best friends and colleagues was simply leaving the force without much warning.

"You sure about this?" Jack asked, frowning. "I can't imagine working a case without you and André bein' there."

Beck ran a hand through his hair. "Well, André's staying here, so you don't have to worry about that one, Jack. I'm sure Branning will assign him a new partner. Happens all the time."

Jenna had tears in her eyes, and she suddenly flung herself forward and hugged him so tight his air passages were starting to become restricted. "We're all gonna miss you, Beck. Even though I didn't know you that well."

Beck chuckled and patted her back. "Likewise, Jen." He pulled away and smiled at her. "Likewise."

Suddenly, everyone in the room stood and started to applaud him, singing, "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow", some off key and some with perfect range. "Jolly" wasn't exactly the best word to describe how the last month had left him, but Beck smiled regardless and kept telling himself not to cry.

"Somebody must be cutting onions," He said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Everyone laughed.

* * *

Tori's fingers gripped the side of the podium tightly, glancing down every so often at the few pages of words she'd written earlier. Eyes watery, she looked out over the sea of familiar faces that were strewn about the pews of the church: her mom and Gary, her father David and his girlfriend, her dad's parents, some cousins, the friends that Trina's career had blessed her with—and of course, Jade, André, and Robbie, who'd thankfully gotten out of prison earlier in the week due to Beck pulling some strings.

While she spoke at the memorial service, though, Tori had asked Beck to stand next to her onstage, just in case the onslaught of emotions became too much for her to bear, and he gladly agreed. Knowing that time wouldn't wait for her to be ready to speak, she sighed deeply and cleared her throat, pushed some hair behind her ear.

"Over the years, a lot of people have had a lot of things to say about my sister Trina. Most of their words, especially in high school, were negative. People mostly saw Trina and judged her based on her character—which, back then, wasn't admittedly the nicest. But if you'd really gotten to know my sister in the short amount of time that she lived—" Her voice broke, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, desperately trying to regain her composure. Beck gently squeezed her side, encouraging her to go on.

"You would've known and seen that Trina Vega was an amazing sibling. She loved her family, her friends, and she loved life. She was always passionate about the things she loved. She didn't let people push her around, or tell her what to do. It didn't matter to her what people thought."

She laughed a little, dabbing at her eyes with the wad of tissue in her hand. She lifted her head and gazed out over the audience. "That's what I admired most about her, that's why I looked up to her. And, whether you knew her or not, whether you liked her or not…she will be missed. I know she will."

Tori and Beck stepped offstage and were greeted with tight hugs by family members. After a few words from the minister, Robbie gathered up enough courage to go onstage and say a few words. He'd never done this before, and oh so many months ago he never would've thought he'd be doing it at all. But, who was he to try and change the fate's design for their lives?

Not saying it wouldn't have been nice, though.

He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and his black tie before tilting down the mic so he could begin. "It sounds a bit cheesy, sure. But last month, Heaven gained an angel. That angel had bright red hair, was always optimistic, and was never seen without a smile. She was the single most important person in my life. We grew up as best friends, and we parted as much more. That angel was my soulmate, Cat Valentine." Robbie paused, clearing his throat once more, blinking back more tears.

"I had the distinct honor of calling her my wife for almost five years. Cat was the most perfect girl in the entire world—and no, I'm not exaggerating. If any of you got to know Cat, you'd always want to be around her. It's amazing because, she got bullied in school because the kids always thought she was weird. That was a complete lie. Cat was unique; she was different, and maybe a little crazy. But it was the good kind of crazy." A few light chuckles spread throughout the crowd.

"She loved everyone, and didn't have an ounce of hate in her body—even now, I'd bet she'll even forgive those who took her life away." He blew out a huge sigh and wiped his eyes. "Mr. and Mrs. Valentine, I know that the pain I'm feeling is nothing compared to the hurt you're going through. And that's totally understandable. But, even though Cat's gone, we'll never, _ever_ forget her. And if we help one another, we can make it through this. We'll heal, I'm sure of it."

* * *

Hours following the funeral and burials, the remaining five of the Hollywood Arts gang were at the Vega's house, reliving old memories and finally having a good home-cooked meal courtesy of Holly, who'd afterwards gone out for a walk with Gary so the "kids" could be alone for a while. It was just like old times, but not really, and they all knew why. The holes in their hearts would take quite a long time to heal fully—but they had each other, and that was the most important thing.

"So, are you sure you want to retire?" Robbie asked Beck before eating another forkful of the food on his plate. "I thought you loved police work."

Beck set his drink down on the coffee table and sighed. "I do, I'll always love it. But like I said, Tori and I talked, and we're sure it's for the best. Branning invited me back anytime, and I can still act, y'know."

"Can you?" Tori asked, raising her eyebrows. Her smile had returned, not quite as prominent, but it was still there and Beck was very grateful for that.

The rest of the group laughed quietly at her little joke, and Beck rolled his eyes as he poked his girlfriend in the side. "I'm only kidding!" She insisted, messing with his hair. "I'm kidding. I love you."

"Uh, speaking of love," André cut in suddenly, and a bit louder than necessary, making everyone turn their heads to look at him. "Jade, I know this isn't the best time, but I was wondering if maybe—"

"Yes, André, I'll marry you, so you can stop blubbering." She held out her open palm towards him, trying her best to suppress a smile. "Give me the ring already, will you?"

Beck laughed at André's reaction, Tori was simply wide-eyed, and Robbie just looked confused but amused at the same time.

Regardless, André did as he was told with a smile on his face.

* * *

Beck sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking out at the starry night sky from the window in Tori's apartment. Just three months ago, he thought, his life had been perfectly normal with absolutely no bumps in the road—the thought of a vacation now seemed utterly stupid. And then, it took the deaths of two important people in his life to realize just how much he loved the girl of his dreams.

That was one thing he couldn't help but hate. The realization that he wouldn't have to wake up at five in the morning, grab a coffee, and pick up André before heading out to the station hit him for the first time. He'd been a detective for God knows how long—and, realistically speaking, what good would a new Hollywood actor be, anyways?

Maybe he'd made the wrong decision…

"Beck?"

He turned around to see Tori emerging from the bathroom, hair in a ponytail, a worried look in her eyes—her PJs hang snug on her skinny frame; a light blue tank top and fuzzy dark red pants with light pink hearts on them. Her nose was a little red, her eyes still puffy, meaning she'd been crying again. "You okay?"

He managed a smile, wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. "Yeah, I was just thinking."

"Bout what?" She laid her head on his chest.

He sighed. "Whether or not my decision was the right one. I mean, I can get used to it but…it's hard."

She lifted her head to look at him, brown eyes meeting brown. "You did, Beck. I've always trusted your judgment. Don't worry, it'll be alright."

Beck smiled and kissed her tenderly. "I'm lucky to have you, miss Vega."

"No, I'm luckier to have you, Oliver." She paused, seeming to search for her next words. "Do you think Trina would be angry with us?"

Beck stayed quiet for a moment. He too, had been wondering that same thing; it actually made him feel a little guilty for acting on his feelings so soon. Several family members from both sides criticized their relationship and practically disowned them altogether. "I think she'd be a bit upset at first, but then she'd accept us. Because above all, she'd want us both to be happy."

She laughed quietly. "I think so too."

Soon thereafter, a peaceful silence hushed over the young couple as they stood there, content with each other's embrace.

From a corner of the room, a transparent figure appeared, observing the tender moment between the couple. Trina Vega smiled gently, whispering,

"Good luck, baby sis."

* * *

**I hated this final chapter; I had so many plans for it but you guys waited long enough and this was the horrendous final product. Sorry if I disappointed you.**

** But thanks for reading regardless! :) I love all of you.  
**

**-ac**


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